


The Way We Were

by CrescentMoonRising



Series: The Night is Darkest Before the Dawn [9]
Category: British Actor RPF, British TV Celebrities RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Growing Apart, Heartache, Long Term Relationship, Longing, NSFW, Smut, can this relationship be saved, tons of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-22 10:58:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4832858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrescentMoonRising/pseuds/CrescentMoonRising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In late 2014, Tom and Noelle have found themselves at an impasse—their lives consistently separated by distance and time.  Neither able to pull on the love they had in their relationship, will they find their way back to each other? Or will they always lament about the way they were?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These are the characters of The Night is Darkest in 2014...I hope you enjoy this miniseries of this time in their relationship. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.

Part One: London, November 2014

_“Prosper P.R., please hold.”_

Noelle stood by the windows of the expansive office, kicking her heels against the toe of her opposite shoe. She decided against pulling out her mobile for the tenth time that morning, knowing that it would make little sense to check again. The ringer was on the loudest it could be managed, and she knew the tone she was waiting to hear.

It was the tone that was rarely heard these days. She had chosen a romantic piano tune for Tom when she made the purchase. It was appropriate at the time, a classical song for a man who was a hopeless romantic and full of timeless charm.

_Maybe it’s time for a change._

She heard a set of quick moving feet after the door opened adjacent to her. Her name floated to her as she turned.

Luke’s face fell slightly as he regarded Noelle. Without speaking again, he held open the door for her to the inner offices and she nodded while walking in front of him.

There were a few desks together for the secretaries in the middle of the office. The expansive area framed by individual rooms for each junior assistant in the firm. Luke’s new office was at the corner, a lovely view of Rosecourt Road from his expansive windows.

She tapped the sign that read: ** _Luke Windsor, Head of Prosper P.R._**  before they entered.

“This is good,” she mused, “It’s about time you made the jump and created your own firm. You’ve done such a great job with your clients.”

Closing the door behind them, he smiled with downturned eyes.

“Thanks Noelle, that’s incredibly kind of you. Please, have a seat.”

Noelle sat in one of the large chairs opposite Luke’s desk. She was happy to see him sit down next to her, unbuttoning his jacket beforehand.

She’d known Luke for almost four years. He wasn’t just Tom’s sort-of-former publicity handler, he was a close friend to both of them. She considered him like a brother, hence her visit this day.

“Noelle,” Luke began, his eyes weary and full of concern, “Darling, you don’t look well. You’ve lost too much weight.”

She nodded and sighed, crossing one of her legs under her before speaking.

“I know. It’s been hard to eat, I—I try. I tell myself I need to eat, I need to have it for energy and to think straight. However…”

She trailed off for a moment before formulating her thoughts again, “However, I just can’t force myself. I have no interest in food right now. I’ve lost interest in a great deal of things at the present time.”

Luke nodded sagely, opening his mouth to speak. Frustration hit her temples and she cut to the chase, uninterested in discussing her emotional state any further.

“What’s going on, Luke? I mean, do you even know what’s been happening since he’s been in Shreveport?”

With a deep sigh he mumbled, “Honestly, I thought I did. I knew things were crazy down there, but it’s been rough for the last few weeks.”

Noelle shook her head, “No, you know what, Luke?” the anger rising, “This has been going on before Shreveport, maybe even before High Rise started.

“He’s been gone—not just physically—emotionally as well. I do not know who this man is anymore and frankly, I’m at the limit. Do you even speak with him? Does anyone anymore?”

“No,” he groaned, “it’s not just you. I’ve heard from Diana and Emma, both saying that he’s gone off the grid during this film. They try to call him, with no response, no return calls. It’s not only frustrating but upsetting for everyone.

“I still talk to him even though he’s current with Hamilton Hodell right now. I haven’t even spoken to him about the Evening Standard Awards in a few weeks.”

Noelle scoffed loudly, “I have. That was our last phone call. He wants to make sure that his Armani is ready, but he is concerned it will not fit. He believes with his weight loss it will look awful.”

"Nothing’s going to fit on him, which is scary, since all his clothing is usually ass tight.”

Noelle could not bring herself to laugh at his joke, Luke’s smile disappearing immediately.

“I know, Noelle. This has been a rough year for him. He had three major films back to back, right off of Coriolanus.”

She shot up out of the chair, the anger spilling forth.

“For him…of course. It’s all about him. Well, you know what? It’s not an excuse anymore! It’s not, Luke!” Noelle was shocked at her outburst, but continued forward.

“He’s the one who said, _‘No matter what, Noelle. You’re my home, that’s what matters most’_.” She stopped before the tears started.  Again.

"That was a lie.”

Closing his eyes, he rested his lips against pillared fingertips.

“What would you like me to do, Noelle? Let me help you, help both of you.”

Noelle grabbed a small notebook from her purse and a pen, and handed them over to Luke. She walked towards the windows gazing out onto the bright morning sun that was bathing London in a warm glow.

“You’re going to give me the address in Shreveport as to where he’s filming. Then you’re going to keep this conversation to yourself.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two takes place in November, 2014. Noelle is heading to Shreveport, LA to meet Tom on the set of I Saw The Light to confront him.

Part Two: Shreveport, November 2014

_»Just finishing up at a rest stop, I have another hour before making it to Shreveport.  I’ll text you, I guess, when it happens. I have a ticket to L.A. and one to Boston for tomorrow. Thank you again for everything, as always, darling.  Love you.»_

She closed the text to Benedict and threw the bags of almonds and chips into the passenger seat as she buckled up. Thankful she never lost her ability to drive, she made the choice to take the journey from Dallas International on her own. 

She wanted to use this time to formulate what she was going to say to him. Tom had the ability to talk, and when given the opportunity, never stopped.

Noelle knew how she’d get when confronting him about anything.  She could keep up with him, but needed to put her thoughts together.  Not being as fast on her feet, she needed time to process her own feelings into something that was coherent.  Otherwise, she would just find herself rambling, and then going silent.  

Noelle knew Tom well enough to see how things could unfold. He was going to use his skills as a master linguist to weave a tale that would make sense to her—his words creating a plausible reason to his absence. Noelle could not let that happen this time around.  She was too angry and hurt to let this behavior continue anymore.  

The last two and a half months began with them only speaking a few times during the week. Tom’s filming schedule picked up and then it was, _‘too demanding to keep up with regular phone calls, darling’._

Then the calls dwindled to once a week.  Noelle could hear the exhaustion laced through his words, dancing through his mumbles and grunts than actual conversation.

The last text message from him was from a week ago, the last phone call even farther in the past.  The message read,  _“Evening Standards are the 30th, I believe Luke will be there.  Make sure there’s room at the table for all of us afterwards.  Thanks xoxo.”_

She checked the GPS, ensuring it was still leading her to the small area in the Louisiana town where the production was housed. Noelle clicked the radio on for something as background before she headed off onto the highway. 

She scanned through the stations, not looking for anything in particular. All she cared about was finding something to keep her company for the last leg of the drive. Hearing something familiar, one country station won out, but her mind wandered almost immediately.

_I wonder if he knows I’m even on my way there.  His P.A—Moira something— sounded confused about letting him know I was in town. She was surprisingly okay with keeping it quiet by saying I was going to be meeting with her._

_I should place bets as to what’s going to happen. Will he be surprised? Angry? Scoop me into his arms and kiss me?_ She couldn’t help the choked laugh in her throat.  _That one will be doubtful._

The thoughts cleared and the music picked up in the car

_Gonna take a deep breath and hold it in_  
_Twirl you around ‘til my head spins_  
_Kiss that lipstick and wear it thin ‘til it’s gone, ‘til it’s gone_  
_Break every rule we ever learned_  
_Kick back and watch the big wheels turn_  
_Light up the night and let it burn ‘til it’s gone_  
_‘Til it’s gone, 'til it’s gone_

She snapped the radio button off. _I hate country music._

Noelle saw in the periphery to her right, a large green sign coming towards her: Shreveport 40 miles.  She took a deep breath and watched the fields sway as she raced across the I-20 to her destination.  

******

The guard stopped Noelle’s silver rental as the driver’s side window rolled down  His eyes scanned Noelle, drawling, “Well, hel-lo dear, how may I help you this fine morning?”

_Hold your tongue, you’re not on that set—yet._

Handing over her drivers license, she smiled brightly at the structured man, who was most likely part of the hired security detail.

“I’m here for Moira Cavanaugh?” She knew saying less was more in this situation.  _Keep to the script, keep to who and how, that’s how this will work._ Tilting her head, brown curls fell back from her shoulder, exposing her skin to the warm southern air.  

The expansive and warm smile she received was followed by a nod.

“One moment, miss.  Let me find out exactly where you need to go.” As he turned, Noelle’s face fell as she viewed the area.  There were small pockets of people milling around, all flanked by the immense trailers on the edge of the set.  The massive cameras and equipment housed in smaller tents from the now blazing mid morning sun.  Her eyes flashed to see fans or reporters around, hoping her big black glasses were hiding her from being recognized.

The guard returned to hand back her ID. He held it upwards briefly, just out of her grasp.

“Massachusetts? You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Miss?”

She smiled brightly, reaching and pulling it from his hand.  Allowing the hint of her tongue to show through her crisp white teeth, she allowed her words to float upwards.

“When duty calls, I make the journey.”  Her eyebrows raised with a purse of her pink lips.  A throaty chuckle met her and he nodded to allow the gates to open.

“Don’t forget to say goodbye when you’re finished, Miss,” she heard as she pulled away.  Consciously taking a few long breaths to clear her head and release the disgust, she drove though the side streets.  Another guard directed her to the smaller parking area.  

For a moment after she turned the car off, she paused. The old, hauntingly familiar feeling of escape ran through her body.  All she wanted was turn the car over, get back on the highway and get back on a plane to home.  Maybe that was better…safer. Maybe she did not need to know what his response would be to seeing her.

_Always rushing forward, anger blazing until you have to confront someone.  Then you’re all bark and no bite, Noelle._

_No.  You’re not happy, you need to confront him.  As hard as this will be, at least you’ll have an answer._

She felt the pit in her stomach grow as she left the car, squinting through the sharp brightness to determine where she needed to go next.  A short and lithe woman, with pixie length black hair, raced towards her, clipboard and headset at the ready.

“Hello, Miss, are you Noelle Garguilo?” She spoke, her voice tremulous and quizzical.

“Yes, I am. Moira, correct?”

“Yes, yes…um, how about you come with me to the trailers?  You can wait in Tom’s. They are filming some scenes in one of the houses on set, so Tom wont be available for at least another hour.” 

They entered inside a double trailer, Noelle’s eyebrows raising at the size given to Tom for this movie.  There were multiple couches and tables.  The walls had full length mirrors and cabinets, but not a drop of food was to be seen.  It was clean and orderly, almost antiseptic.

Noelle turned, “Thank you so much for this, Moira. I know Luke called ahead to let you know I was on my way and I appreciate you keeping it quiet.  We do not need more press on this film, I know it’s a concern to the directors.”

“Not a problem at all,” she said, the hint of a smile flashing and disappearing immediately.  

“So, I—I guess Tom doesn’t know that you’re here? This was all kind of sudden, hearing you’d be on set.” 

She continued, her mousy voice skittering all over, “I mean, Tom’s great—really.  He is a lovely person to have playing Hank.  I know he’s been deeply moved by all the people working on the film.”

She paused, eyes shifting back and forth before dropping again, “Will you be staying long?”  

“I’m not sure.  I’m on my way to Los Angeles to check in with one of the agencies,” she mumbled.  

Not fully paying attention to the girl, she roamed around the room, looking at a wall of photographs.  Some were of Hank Williams, his wife, their children, all at different points of their lives.  Next to many were corresponding photos of Tom, Elisabeth and other actors.  The results were startling.

There were photos she didn’t recognize as the person being Tom, the makeup and costuming effectively creating a live replica.  He was also incredibly- _desperately_  thin. 

“Oh, you’re an actress too?”

Noelle laughed, hollow and lifeless. 

“No, not by a long shot.  I am a makeup artist.” 

Still gazing over all the pictures, it took her a moment to realize she had a set of eyes on her.  Moira jumped, her eyes flaring large when Noelle turned around.  She placed her head down into her clipboard and began to stutter again.

“W-well, Tom looks like he will be taking a break soon, so expect him here in a few.  If you need anything, the phone there will call over to services for anything.” With a small wave, she scurried out of the expansive trailer.

Soon Noelle was left by herself, the only sounds of her shoes padding against the thin carpeting and the air conditioning humming through the vents.  She moved closer to a vanity, that had some more photographs on them.

Again, more Hank and Tom, Tom and the crew, Tom & Elisabeth, the photos were for research, modeling, absolutely.  Not one photo of Tom prior to filming, not one of Noelle, or his family to be seen, anywhere.  

She was so transfixed on the mirror in front of her, she only heard the door  _snap_ shut.  As she turned around, she was met by a pair of dark brown eyes.

They were attached to a tall, sweaty man in a sagging suit in front of her. Every thought vanished in an instant from her mind.  It was only until he spoke, that the recognition kicked in.

_“Noelle?”_

_The song in the car was Kenny Chesney’s, Till It’s Gone_

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noelle finally comes face to face with Tom in the wake of his growing distance in her life.

_His voice had never sounded so cold._

“Noelle.” It was the only word he said before he walked to the couch, sharply inhaling before clearing his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

One hand holding onto the rings of the chair that belonged to his vanity, she held back her tongue, “I’m here to see you Tom. Why else would I have travelled all this way?”

He removed the oversized jacket, the sweat stains marring the back of his white shirt. Slumping into the couch, his hands slid from his thighs to the cushions next to him. He gazed around the trailer with vacant eyes.

“I really do not have time for a visit. We film all day long, and it’s late hours before I have to get back to the house and–”

“Are you seeing someone else, Tom?” Noelle snapped, the reigns broken on her anger.

She could not get past the brown eyes that stared at her, unfeeling, emotionless. Brown eyes that seemed completely out of place. She was looking into the eyes of someone she did not know anymore.

“Is it the P.A? Moira? Just tell me, Tom, because I am in no mood to be treated like a fool here. If you traded me for a newer and younger version–”

It was his turn to cut her off with a weak raise of his eyebrows, “You flew all this way to start an argument with me?”

A gasp choked in her throat, the feeling of utter despair running down her spine, “You think that’s what this is all about Tom? I want to fight with you? How about, we haven’t spoken in weeks? How about, I see you becoming more and more distant, and no answers in sight other than you’re thousands of miles away?”

He let out a groan, filled with disgust and annoyance. Noelle could feel her body weakening, holding on even tighter to the chair, using it to support her weight before she collapsed to the floor.

“Noelle, you don’t understand this film, you have no idea what is riding on my shoulders.” Tom’s eyes flicked over to her with a slow release of his jaw.

“I don’t understand?”, she spoke, her voice calm but hiding the rage within, “Please, please enlighten me as to the inner workings of a movie set, Thomas.”

His name finally brought him out of his lifeless reverie, “No, you could not understand, Noelle. This is a huge movie, one with very big implications to my career. You have no idea what I am going through on a daily basis.“

_Implications to my career…_

She yanked the chair from beneath the vanity and slammed it onto the carpet in front of him. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and leaned forward as she spoke. Noelle was losing the ability to find the man who she loved all this time.

"I might be able to understand it all, Thomas, if you had spoken with me. If you had let me know what was going on here, on the other side of the world, I might have some inkling as to your daily routines, the schedule, the fact that you’ve had to lose weight.”

With a methodical roll of his head, he groaned, “You think this is all easy? You think that being this thin, having to eat a sandwich every day with two slices of meat is the way I want to live? I’ve had to sacrifice almost everything for the sake of this role.

"This is for a movie that no one, not one person, believed I could pull off. You remember, even his grandson said that I should not be on this film. I’m considered hack British actor who had no place in playing an American country singer.”

Swallowing hard, she found her eyes could not keep on his face.  _I believed in you_ , she thought.

He pushed up and off the couch as he continued, “I lost all this weight, endured vocal lessons for weeks on end, to become Hank Williams. I was up at dawn, running on no calories, singing until late into the night. I put myself on a stage and sang in front of hundreds of people, having to prove that I could be in this role.

"They accepted me, Noelle. His family and his fans all accepted me. They’ve seen me, seen me sing, seen my acting. They believe it: I am Hank Williams. They see it now, all of those people out there who initially laughed at me when I walked onto the set. I have become a country singer. The man from Wimbledon and Oxford transformed to a southern gentleman.

"His family, they see the dedication that I have spent in all this time perfecting myself to this role. You should understand this, the importance of it all.

“This could be the film that puts me over the top, the one that places me in the minds of everyone. Not just Marvel fans, not just those who know me from Loki and War Horse. This could be my foray into bigger projects, without having to prove myself over and over.” After he finished, his hands clutched the back of the couch, knuckles turning white against his pale skin.

“Of course I understand all of this, Tom. That is what I do, I help to transform people for the screen. My life’s work has been doing just that, how could you even think that I am beyond the comprehension of what you are doing here?” The exasperation in her voice was apparent, and soon matched by his own.

“This isn’t makeup, Noelle. This is more than that.”

_I’m just the makeup girl…_

“You can make someone look like the role, your job is to transform someone. However, you can’t make someone physically skinnier; you can’t give them the ability to sing properly can you? Unless you’ve learned something new?”

“No, you’re absolutely right, I can’t,” she snapped to the underlying venom in his words.

She searched his face for remnants, anything to grasp onto, "You do realize you are Thomas Hiddleston, do you not?”

“The only way for me to make this work, the way to make this believable, is to put myself into this; have to believe I’m Hank. I have to feel who he is, live in his body, as hard as that is every day.” His arms shook with each breath, the punctuation of his words.

“Do you really believe all this was work for you? I’m not an idiot Tom, I see the pictures! I know it’s been fun and good times out here. Do not portray this as torture for you; give me a break!

"I have to do this Noelle! I have to put everything into this! Can’t you see, I will never make past these small roles unless I sacrifice myself! I have gone from one thing to the next all year, to prove that I am capable of leading a film of this caliber?”

Slapping his hand against the other’s palm, he punctuated each word: “ _Coriolanus, High Rise, Crimson Peak_ –they’re all stepping stones to this movie.”

Noelle closed her eyes, her tears threatening to fall, “You know, I’ve heard now all about how you’ve been doing this for you, your career, for Hank’s memory and his family. Did you forget you have a family as well? What about your mother, your sisters? They still care about you, why did you leave them too?

"And what about me? I believe in you. I always have, since the day we met! Did you forget that you have a home that you share with someone who has loved and cared for you for years?”

“Of course I still love you Noelle.”

She scoffed while furiously shaking her head, “Funny, that wasn’t what I was saying there. I was saying that you have a place to call home, somewhere for you to connect and become yourself again. Because when this film is over, that’s who you are–Tom Hiddleston.”

He mumbled while viewing the carpet, ”Well, until then, I am Hank Williams.“

Slapping her hands to her sides, Noelle’s desperation raged, "So, I wait? Just sit back and anticipate a phone call, or a text every now and again? Whenever your fancy allows you to partake in such menial tasks?”

“I never received any calls, Noelle. Anyway, I have been keeping from phones, it’s more authentic that way.” Noelle’s mouth dropped at his admission, her chest constricting against the cool of the room.

Waving his hand, Tom stuttered, “I-I-I don’t understand. You have your friends, you have Benedict. They should be able to support you until this is all over.”

She saw the shock in his eyes as her body was drained from emotion. She heard her words shaking, but she tried-desperately-to keep herself together.

“So, I’m just the person who you share time with until you are ready to be back in your own skin again? Just forget you aren’t around? Because that’s not a life with someone, even when you’re separated!”

“This will all be over, and things will be back to normal,” he soothed. It only managed to enflame Noelle’s anger more.

“What about the next time, the next project?  _Skull Island_ , when you run off to another far away land, I’m supposed to just sit and wait? Just plunge myself into my work until you’re ready to come home?”

“Things change, they’ll be back to normal.” He reached for her arm, and she yanked it back with force. She nearly stumbled backwards, but balanced herself on the heels of her boots.

“I’m not here to wait. I shouldn’t be made to, either.”

Pleading, he stretched out again, “This is a huge project, Noelle. This could be the film that brings me to the top, the one that gets me the recognition, the praise in January…” he trailed off. His eyes glazed over, making it unable for him to see the shock across Noelle’s face.

_And there it is…._

Steadying her voice Noelle bounced in her feet, “I’m glad. I really am. Good luck to you.”

“What?” the word floated off his lips, a whisper of a plea.

“Good luck, Tom. I tried telling you that’s not who I am, you’ve known that from the start. Asking me to be a second or third thought in your life is not what I want, or what I need. You’re better off on your own, or with someone who can handle that.

“No matter how far we were separated, no matter for how long, you and I always found each other in the end. We were always equals. You do not see me that way anymore.”

“You’re not hearing me, Noelle! This is my life!”

“Mine too, at least, I thought it was my life.” She stepped up to him and poked him in the chest, grazing against the fine cotton.

“You, you were my life. I can’t do this again, Tom.”

“Fine!” he bellowed into her face before running his hands through his hair, the small curls that framed his head, “Do what you want! I don’t need this now!”

Noelle watched him walk away from her: the tall man swimming in his clothes, with the chocolate hair and eyes.

She tore out of the trailer, never looking back at him. Noelle refused to turn back towards everything that was a shell of what she remembered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their confrontation on the set of I Saw The Light, Noelle returns to London and to her and Tom's flat to collect her belongings. When Tom finds her, however, months of misunderstandings and silence finally come to a head.

 

“You sure you want to do this, darling girl? I can run in and grab what you need, I mean—“

“No, Ben,” Noelle stopped him before he rambled on, “I can manage this. In fact, I think I need to do this. I have to go in there.”

They stood outside of her flat, once called ‘their’ flat. Noelle held onto the door handle for dear life, as if it was her lifeline, her only way to remain upright.  She flicked her eyes up to Benedict, grateful to have him with her this evening.  She nodded, confirming to herself this was what needed to happen, and turned the lock.

They walked into the darkened rooms, soon illuminated from the kitchen overheads. Noelle hit some of the switches by the front door while letting it go behind her.  It closed with a smack, and Ben removed his scarf with a long sigh.  Noelle gazed around, not having within in this space for a few weeks.

She decided after Shreveport to stay with her family.  _Recovery and recuperation_ , that was her parents credo whenever she returned.  The good feelings usually only lasted a week before it was clear she needed to put an ocean between them.

She loved her parents, her sister, to the ends of the Earth.  However, they had enough sympathy to last a few days before the comments began.  She remembered them at the end of her last relationship, only this time, they were paired with,  _“I’m just so surprised.”_  Once she hit her limit on that statement, she knew: it was time to go home.

However, this place had not been her home, either.  Not in her mind, not for a long time.

Noelle tossed the keys on the kitchen counter before heading off into the bedroom.  She had already packed up a bunch of her clothes, all her major personal items before she left for Shreveport. Being able to quickly pack up had become a part of her job, knowing that she could be called on a moment’s notice.  

The bulk of her clothes could be boxed at a later date.  What remained were the items of sentimental value.  Her jewelry box, her photo albums from her youth in the States, the silly sock collection she kept for cold nights.  She pulled on the little duffle bag that hung across her body.

She tried not to look on the top of their dresser, the double with the elongated top.  It was covered in photographs, some large, some small.  Her eyes went down into the drawer, pulling out items and placing them haphazardly into the bag.  

It was then her eyes went up for her jewelry box. It was shaped like a present with a large purple bow on the top.  She remembered when he bought that for her, from the little store on the West End, after their first anniversary.  The stood outside the park that night, cold and damp.  He held up the box which held her gift—shaped just like what was inside.  

 _“It plays one of your favorite songs,”_  Tom told her that night. She remembered his smile, the bounce in his feet as she stood before him. Noelle remembered holding onto his waist, the laugh that permeated the darkened street.  

Noelle looked at it again, this time without the smile on her face.  Removing the top, she twisted the knob. The tinkling sounds of  _“Moonlight Sonata”_  flowed in the room, the lilting of the piano playing the signature one-two-three, ascending in pitch. She looked inside to find her few necklaces, and her eye caught on an emerald ring.

Tom gave the ring to her on her birthday that year, having flown in from Toronto to London for the weekend.  He had been filming  _Crimson Peak_  and was utterly exhausted.  However, they made up for it by spending the entire day in bed, either sleeping or engaged in more heated activities. The ring never left her hand the entire time, and was permanently attached to her body for months afterwards.

 _That was, until I lost so much weight that it refused to remain on my hand._  She twisted the ring in the light, watching the deep green glow in the light.

Noelle feared that it slid so much, she would lose it one day.  She began leaving it at home when she worked, initially feeling the pang of something that had a home, and now had none.  She stopped wearing it when she spent time with friends, the feeling never fitting right on her finger.  Eventually, she would neglect to wear it at home.  

She took it out of the box and twisted it in her fingers. Without realizing, her eyes roamed to of a photo of them, from one of Tom’s  _Thor 2_  premieres.  One of the events from the year before, when they were in such good spirits, ready for him to be home for his  _Coriolanus_  run.  

Even when he was exhausted, even when he had difficulty putting two sentences together, he was happy.  He came home to her with a smile every night.  

Months passed, and now they faced two separate lives.  Noelle feared, they would never recapture the feelings that were beaming from one photo.  She turned to the closet, walking through to pick up a few shirts and shoes, realizing she was losing space in the tiny bag.  Eventually, she would have to come back and collect the rest. She already felt drained with just getting dressed to travel ten minutes.

She had been tired for what seemed like ages, and now with every waking moment it felt like breathing was taking up too much of her energy.  She woke and wanted to go back to sleep, but couldn’t.  She would feel she should eat but only found what would kill the hunger and then head back to her bed.  

The bed—it was the spare in Benedict’s flat.  She’d been there for over a week, he offered it to her on return from her parent’s, insisting she stay there. Benedict had been back and forth, finishing up Richard III and doing press for  _Imitation Game_. She had the huge place all to herself.  She didn’t mind the quiet, in fact she was happy to be surrounded by it.  She wanted nothing with speaking to people and discussing her life, and her future.

_Thirty-six and alone, once more._

She was about to search for her heavy coat that remained in the back of their walk-in, when she heard a male voice.  She initially thought it was Benedict on the phone, until she heard the other voice.  Within seconds both became raised and heated, causing her to jump from her spot and run out into the living room.

As she expected, there was Tom, in Benedict’s face.

“Real nice, you’re here, why am I not surprised?”

Benedict leaned into him, “Well someone had to, did you think I would just leave her with all of this on her own? Although, that’s how you do things, isn’t it?”

Tom threw up his hands in disgust, “I suppose this is why you were such a prick to me the other night at the Evening Standards? Every damn photograph you looked as if you couldn’t stand to be in my sights!”

“Not far from how I felt, believe me.”

“No, please!” Noelle screamed, catching both of them off guard and creating another uncomfortable silence in the room.

She held up her hand to calm them, noticing how it shook without control, “Both of you, there’s no need for this.”

“How do you think I feel to walk in my house and the first thing I see is the person who treated me like shit in public, with that-that smirk on his face!”

Benedict ran right back up to Tom’s chest, only an inch separating them, “Did you really believe I would want to take pictures with you? You’re lucky I didn’t tell you off right then and there, Tom!”

“Enough!” Noelle shrieked, her voice breaking on the last syllable.

“Benedict, I think you should leave.  I need to speak with Tom on my own, please.” Without looking at her, Benedict nodded and walked from the flat. Once the silence returned, Noelle faced toward Tom.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

“Funny how that works isn’t it? Aggravating, even? Did you find yourself asking what in the world happened to cause such a change in behavior from someone who claims they love you?”

Tom scoffed, now looking down and seeing the new bag in her arm.

“What are you doing? Are you coming home, finally?” There was a brief moment, a flash of his eyes softening, the Tom she once knew.  

She shook her head, the breath not filling her lungs as she spoke, her heart racing,”Was it not clear from when I said that I was not coming back here? I mean it, Tom. I—I can’t return.  Why would I? You made it clear when I left that you had no interest in listening to how I felt.  You left me cold and alone in London.

“Why would I want to come back to the place that I paced for hours? Return to a bed that was empty for weeks upon weeks, without any contact from you to let me know you possibly felt the same?”

He stuttered, trying to cut in her words, “Tha-that girl! Moira, she had my phone, she was deleting messages. We found out right at the end. I never heard from you.”

Her mouth dropped, “Why didn’t you check Tom? My god, even just to reach out to me, and find out why I would have cut off all ties? Because that was what I was trying to understand from you!

“Admit it, you didn’t reach out because it was easier that way.  One less thing for you to not have to focus on while things were going so well for you in Shreveport.”

He exploded once again, “I never said they were! It was hard work, I was being pulled in a million directions, making myself starved, and drained to the bones so I could look like him.  How would this be successful without that piece in place? How could I let audiences know—“

“That’s it!” she cried, “It’s all you cared about, for all these months.  It’s just you, Thomas, just you.  How you could turn your back on me, after all this time?” She shook her head, her eyes unable to remain on his lean and almost skeleton-like frame.  

Tom whispered, barely audible, “I never turned my back, Noelle. I lost sight of it all.”

“It’s one and the same, and that’s it, Tom.  You never should have.”  She turned to pick up her bag, and grabbed her keys.  

She walked up to him, her hands clenched tight against her stomach.

“Here,” she whispered.  

His mouth opened as a small sob floated in the space between them.

“No, please, Noelle.  I can’t take this, it’s yours, your gift.”

“I can’t keep it, Tom.  It’s a reminder of everything before all of this.  Before Shreveport, before Ireland even, when we were the people we were in the past.”  His hand raised to her cheek, mouth grazing against the side of her face.

“Please, darling, you’re what holds me together.  _‘That which my world rotates and revolves’_ , remember?”

Pulling away, she searched his blue eyes, now filling with tears, “No, no, it isn’t. It’s time, Thomas. I’m not here to be the support—I’m here to be your partner.  You took me from that place.” Her fingers grazed over his chest, right over his heart.  

She felt tears dropping onto her skin, however, not her own.  She had cried so much, they were all spent from her body.

“I’ll be back at some point for this stuff, but for now, just move it when you need.” She murmured.

“No, Noelle, wait…”

She closed his hand around the emerald, and watched as he pressed his eyes closed, more tears running down his gaunt cheeks. His hands tried to grasp around hers but she slipped out of them, turning away.

“I love you, Tom. I always will.”

“Noelle, I love you, please. Please, Noelle,” his voice now coming firmer, the desperation running through.

She opened the door, to find Benedict standing in the hallway, his head down, cap covering his face.  Without looking backward, she allowed the door to close, and walked ahead of Ben, throwing the bag up onto her shoulder.  

The two walked over to his Jaguar, parked at the end of their street.  The December winds had begun to pick up—blowing all around them and pushing tendrils back into Noelle’s face. She silently slid into the passenger side, awaiting him to sit next to her.

“We’ll go back to mine?”

“Sounds good. “

“Do you need—“

“Benedict, just drive right now?” He nodded, and pulled the car out and onto the sleepy London night.  Her head felt almost too heavy for her neck and she rested it against the support behind her, watching the streets move against the glass.

As the first drop fell she mused, “Ah. I guess I do still have tears to shed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write and even harder to read. Please accept tissues, chocolate, or wine as my apology.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their breakup, Noelle finds herself prepping her long time client for the 2015 SAG Awards. While there, she's faced with a few decisions about her former relationship with Tom and how she could move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If interested, read the one-shot: Love of My Life, which gives a look into Tom's POV before this chapter. It's one of my favorite pieces of writing and it shows the depth of his feelings for Noelle.

“What do you think?” she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Noelle focused on the plate in front of her, unable to raise her eyes to her friend.  They sat in mirrored cross-legged positions on the bed, a plate of fattening and forbidden appetizers rested between them.

Lupita picked up one of the mozzarella sticks and dipped it into the sauce before speaking, “You mean, do you think you were right in your decision, Noelle?”  She took a bite and waited for Noelle to speak, giving her the opportunity to formulate her thoughts.

“Well,” Noelle said picking up one  of the sticks for herself, “I guess. Some days I feel that this was right and I had to make this break from him.  Other days…”

“Not so much?” Lupita mumbled through the food in her mouth.

“No, not at all.“ She stopped to eat, but knew it was to keep the tears at bay.

“I miss him, Lu, it’s stupid for me to deny that fact. I can sit here and say how much I feel like an independent and strong woman. I guess in some ways, I am, but…” she trailed off, her eyes roaming out the window towards the darkened skies above Los Angeles.  

“It never should have happened in the first place. If he loved me, loved me the way he has said all this time? Then making me last of his priorities would never have been an issue. Maybe it was better it happened before things became permanent. I wonder if that was even a consideration to him.” Her voice dropped, feeling the familiar twinge in her chest. Mindlessly, she played with the food on her plate, twisting the sticks and wings around in circles.

Lupita sighed, after a wipe of the sauce her mouth before speaking, “Let me ask you this, though. Do you think that he has realized his mistakes?”

Noelle nodded, as some of her curls that escaped her bun caressed the nape of her neck, “He called me a few times around the holidays. I would have called back, but when I woke up it was always late in London.” Lupita’s eyebrow arched and Noelle huffed under her breath.

“Fine, I avoided his calls.” Lupita held her hands up, approving of Noelle’s admission.

“I just can’t bring myself to talk to him. It hurts too much, Lu.  I spent the last three years with Tom, and we’ve gone through every kind of separation and difficulty that a relationship in this industry could face. I –I just can’t handle the silence.  

"I’d rather have him screaming and yelling at me than be in a situation where I’m forgotten. All these years, all the time we’ve spent apart, we never lost track of each other. I keep thinking how easily I slipped his mind this time around, and how I can not put myself in that position again.”

Lupita’s light copper eyes found Noelle’s while she continued to place food on her friend’s plate. “Where have you been staying? Did you go back to London?”

“When it first happened, I bounced around from here in the States to Ben’s place and back again.  Since we have all these shows in Los Angeles, I plan on staying with Marcella in Malibu until the end of February.”

Noelle buried her head in her hands, her soft cardigan wrapping her in a warmth she wished was something else, “It all just hurts so much.”

Lupita moved over on the bed towards Noelle and placed her arms around her shoulders, “Honey, I know. It’s all so much to handle and in the middle of the most stressful time in Hollywood.” With gentle strokes, she caressed her head. Noelle relished the feeling of any type of loving contact. She had been without it for months.  

It was one of the things that she missed the most.  It never occurred to her that Tom was such a tactile person. How he was quick with a hug, always ready to place an arm or a hand on her body.  She longed to feel the touch of his fingers on the back of her neck, or grazing across her collarbone.

After a few minutes of silence, Lupita searched Noelle’s face before speaking, “Noelle, we’ve known each other for almost two years.  Can I be honest with you?”

“I would like that.”

Pulling her knees to her chest, Lupita rested her chin against her flannel pajamas, “I know how hard this must be for you. Both of you being in this industry, on different sides, obviously.  It makes it so much harder to understand how Tom could forget about you. Let me just explain from my side, but I’m not taking his, please remember that?”

Noelle nodded for her to continue, “As an actor, when we dive ourselves into roles, we have to take on the persona we have to be on film. It requires incredible energy and motivation.  To become that person, real or not, you have to find yourself in that world all the time. It’s nearly impossible to shut if off when you walk off the set.  To to do that means you have to return to that role again–every day.  

She tapped her fingers against her calves, "When Benedict was in  _The Imitation Game_  or even when he portrayed Sherlock, did his mannerisms change? Did he take on a new personality during that time?”

Noelle groaned, “He can be impossible when he films Sherlock. God, the arrogance is non stop, but I know Benedict. He can be a jackass at any time during the day.” Both women laughed under their breath before Noelle spoke again.

“During _The Imitation Game_  he–”  she trailed off, when it hit her.

“He isolated himself.”

Lupita rubbed Noelle’s back as a sorrowful smile crossed her face, “Sometimes we know better.  Now, I am sure Benedict is on your side because he hasn’t expressed to you how hard it was for him to portray Allan.  I know--because he and I were in contact.  He had many days where he was inconsolable, because of the pain it took to be in the role of someone who was so intelligent, yet persecuted for his human nature.”

_She’s right.  Benedict never said any of this to me, just that the filming was hard, brutal at points, and he put all of himself on that film to become Allan._

“Do you remember those nights we used to stay up when we filmed  _12 Years A Slave_ , watching bad 80’s movies?”

Noelle’s eyes lit at the memory.  Nights similar to the one they were having at present, hanging in their pajamas, eating fattening foods and laughing for hours.

“I needed those nights, Noelle, beyond anything.  Because at the end of the day, after being Patsy for so long, there were days I was mired in a deep depression. Even with Michael being as sweet and kind and apologetic to me, the moment the cameras rolled, we became those people on screen.”

Noelle swallowed hard, visions of Michael on set and then on film, becoming a monster to Lupita. There were days even she was downright rude towards him, being unable to shake off the unfounded feeling of anger.

Lupita continued, “You were with me in the trailer when I broke down, several times. Remember those days you had to tell them to give me a break because the weight from Patsy’s horrors would hold me until I couldn’t breathe?  The nights I was unable to sleep because of the nightmares? You remember, you had to put all that extra foundation on me to cover my baggy eyes!”

Noelle reached for Lupita’s hand, “Oh, Lu, I know how awful it was for you.  I was glad to be there and was lucky to gain your friendship during that shoot.”

Lupita’s hand wound around Noelle’s before she spoke.  Noelle could see she was choosing her words carefully.

“Noelle, I don’t know if Tom had anyone who was like you for him on that set.  Yes, he had his coach, but that was to get him into the character.  Without that, he would never have been able to transform into the persona of Hank. He lost himself in the role, absolutely.

"Without someone to ground him it was all too easy to fall into a state of ignorance. I just wonder if he has realized how much of a mistake he made.  Would that make a difference to you?”

Noelle grabbed a wing and picked at the flesh.   _If I say yes, does that make me weak?_

“I’ll be honest, honey.  If I was in a relationship while on  _12 Years A Slave_ , it never would have survived.  I was so overwhelmed by that role, I had nothing to give to anyone at the end of the day. It took being completely removed and far away from that set to even laugh.  Some days I couldn’t manage conversation, let alone be intimate with someone.”

With a disgusted groan, Noelle hopped off the bed to grab a drink from their fridge, “I don’t know, Lu.  This may all be completely moot anyway, I haven’t heard from him in two weeks.” She closed her eyes on the words, the verbalization of the possibility that it was over.

“What if you called him?”

She tossed a Sprite over to Lupita before opening her own, “Maybe. Right now we have to keep our eyes focused on the SAG Awards. I guess on Monday I’ll give him a call.”

She flopped onto the king size bed with a huff. With a giggle, Lupita threw a popper into her mouth, “All right, enough of all this.  Let’s eat this food before my agent comes around. Hopefully it wont show up on my body so I can still fit into my Saab in two nights.”

* * *

 _“Lupita, Lupita! Over here, please!”_ The cameramen screamed as she turned back and forth for the SAG luncheon. Noelle watched from the sidelines as her friend proudly showed off her knee length gown.  She winked with hand on her hip, when her P.A. took her arm to escort her into the Garden Room.

Satisfied that her client was in good hands, Noelle headed back into the foyer, beyond the carpet, to find Benedict.  Quickly, she placed a call to Hamilton-Hodell, to let them know all was on track for the next evening.  When the familiar voices chimed around her, she closed her phone with a wave and a smile.

“Hey!” she sang as she grabbed Benedict’s girlfriend into her arms before placing a kiss on his cheek.  "Lupita is inside, so let’s get the formality over and done with so we can have some fun.“ Noelle held Charlotte’s arm, the former’s eyes belying her concern at the amount of press and photographers.

Reassuring Charlotte once more, Noelle saw the break and walked towards the entrance. She stopped for one moment to allow her photo to be taken before moving again. The reporters screamed questions at her, the smile remained plastered on her face.

_"Noelle, how’s Tom?” “How come he isn’t with you this weekend?” “Is Tom attending tomorrow night?”_

With a wave and a smile, Noelle promptly snapped her stilettos into action. She headed into the massive banquet room, where she was met with a wall of celebrities and handlers.

Work was good. Work was a distraction she needed. Work kept her from thinking about an uncertain future.  

With a champagne glass in hand, she weaved through the crowds with a smile plastered on her face.  Noelle found another one of the directors for  _The Theory of Everything_  and was soon engaged in industry talk.

As the chimes rang for the luncheon to begin, Noelle decided she needed another drink to make it through the morning.  As she sided up to the bar, she jumped at the vibration through the clutch under her arm.  Waiting for her drink, she looked down at her phone, anticipating a message from Luke or her agent.

She felt her entire body go limp at the words that met her eyes: _I’m here at the Four Seasons in the lobby.  Please. Please, come talk to me? –Tom_

Noelle could not determine which emotion flooded her body first. Shock, disbelief, and anger cascaded at once while a drink was placed in front of her. She absentmindedly stared at the screen, hearing the bartender clear his throat.

“Miss? You okay?” Noelle nodded and thought for a moment.  Grasping the glass in her hands, she searched the room for Benedict, taking long pulls of the alcohol before she found their table.  Handing the empty glass to a passing waiter, she headed to where they were seated.

Taking her time not to cause a scene, she immediately went to Charlotte, to determine if she recovered from the chaos of the press line.  Once Noelle was certain all was good with her friend, she moved over to Kiera Knightly. The two had not been together since the Toronto Film Festival back in September and Noelle congratulated her on her impending motherhood.

With a hand on his shoulder, Noelle peered over to Benedict, “Do you have a second?” He looked up into her smiling face, recognizing there was panic behind her words. With a quick excusal from the table, the two walked to the doors overlooking the grand pool that encompassed much of the exterior of the property.

“Did you speak to Tom at all?” she hissed.  Noelle knew that her words were harsh, tone sharp, but she needed to get to the bottom of the situation before it became a fiasco.

Benedict sighed before his hand grazed over the back of his neck, “He called me Wednesday night–he sounded awful.  I just told him that if he felt so strongly about the two of you, he knows how to find you.  I would never tell him any details.” Noelle closed her eyes and scoffed, now with an understanding of how this situation unfolded.

“I didn’t tell you, simply because I didn’t want to upset you while working if he decided to let it go.”

Noelle snapped back, “Well, he didn’t.” Handing over her phone, Benedict looked at the text and then met Noelle’s eyes.  She saw the look of worry, and possibly, concern over Tom’s appearance in Los Angeles.  

“I’ll get rid of him, if that’s what you want.” Benedict paused, shuffling his feet back and forth before continuing, “Why won’t you listen to him, though?” Noelle groaned internally. Conflicting messages ran through her brain:  _Should I talk to him? Do I tell him to wait? Send Benedict to tell him to get lost?_

As her mind raced, Benedict leaned down to her, “Hear him out, Noelle.  I think you know you have to at least do that.  He knows he’s made a mistake.”  Meeting his eyes, she shook her head once again.  This time, it was in agreement.

“Five minutes, that’s it.” With a deep breath, she turned on her heel, relishing in the clicking sound they made as they echoed through the grand lobby of the Four Seasons.  She paused in the middle of the large waiting area, scanning the room for the tall figure she knew so well.

She walked past a man, crouched over with a hat pulled down over his face.  It was when her name was called, in a familiar throaty vibrato, that she paused.

“Noelle?”

She turned to find Tom, clad in an old sweatshirt and jeans, UNICEF cap covering most of his face.  When she saw his eyes, the recognition hit her like a frigid blast of air.

His mouth opened while he searched for her reaction.  They had not seen or spoken since that night in December. The night she gave him back her ring.  

“Tom.”

Her eyes roamed around, realizing there was no place truly private for them to speak.  With a huff, she motioned for him to follow her to the elevators.  She pressed the button to her floor, keeping her eyes on the flashing lights above the doors as they lit one by one.  She was afraid to meet his eyes, to find herself lost in them again.  A situation that happened so many times before.

She led them into the suite she shared with Lupita, closing the doors to her client’s rooms.  Ignoring him in the doorway, Noelle walked over to the windows and rested against the wall.  It was close to noon, and the glass was hot to the touch from the California sun.

Trying to steady her breath, she held her tongue. _If he’s here, he’s going to start this conversation. I’m done with making this my priority._

She assumed that he picked up on her unwillingness to begin, as his words tumbled forth.  

“You look beautiful.”

A silent sigh passed her lips as Tom continued, “You know what bothers me the most? I can’t say that to you. I can’t wake up next to you and see your face.  I can’t watch you sleep, with your head in the pillows and hair all over your shoulders and back.

"I can’t reach out and touch your skin. I can’t feel the warmth that radiates from your body while you sleep. There’s no smile on my face when I tickle your side and you grumble at me to stay away.”

Her mind flew at a rapid speed as her thoughts raced:  _I miss the way you breathe in your sleep. How your eyes flutter on the exhale.  I miss how you reach for my hand as you wake up, your mouth resting against my shoulders._

"There is none of that because the flat,  _our_  flat, is empty.  I look at your side of our bedroom, and there is no makeup, no clothes on the floor.  I’m not tripping over your shoes or putting your jackets back into the closet.”

_I miss your cup on the counter, next to mine. I miss wearing your shirts, the V dipping right in the middle of my chest.  I miss the throaty laugh you give when you first speak in the morning, before you’ve had anything proper to eat or drink._

His voice broke, prompting Noelle to finally look towards him, “It’s horrible. I hate it. I hate every minute of being there because every inch, every corner reminds me of you. The tea shop on the corner that makes those cookies you like, the theater that we frequented before things got too crazy. The Italian restaurant…” he trailed off, a tear streaking over his cheekbone.

_I miss our restaurant, holding your hand across the table. Discussing the week, talking about the projects and upcoming possibilities. Our hopes and dreams were discussed at that table in the corner, right by the painting of the Colosseum.  How we said when we’d return to Rome, it was first on our list._

“Eight months of last year I spent filming to finally be at home in London.  I want nothing to do with any of it.  None of this matters, Noelle.”

_Now you know how I felt all that time. None of it mattered to me, either. You were the other half of my home._

He strode across the room, towards the sun filtering through the opening in the curtains. Pale sunlight illuminated the tears that streaked down his face. He stopped directly in front of Noelle, hands shaking at his sides.

She remembered those eyes, the blue ones that looked at her from her makeup chair in a field in the middle of England.  She remembered them from the nights spent in her room, her hands grasping his shoulders and back as he kissed her.

She remembered them from the red carpets, the moments he stopped to look at her before he kissed her lips. She the same way he did right at that moment.

“I love you Noelle. I never, at any time lost one piece of the love I have for you. I lost myself, as your partner. Never again will that happen, I promise you.”

He dropped onto both of his knees. Noelle’s hands retracted under her chest in shock, barely hearing his words.

“I will make a vow that you will be my priority, always. B-but,I’m not asking you to take me for forever. Just give me the chance to show you that I could be that man once more.

“Noelle, you loved me then. You said you still love me now.  Please, think about the possibility of loving me tomorrow, and the next day and the next day following?”

She held onto the last vestiges of her anger, the belief that she was giving in and excusing his actions.  Actions that made her feel unworthy, a place she never wanted to return on any occasion.

He reached for her, arm outstretched, “I will never allow you to become the background again, Noelle. _‘That which my world rotates and revolves’?”_ She looked down, unable to recpirocate his touch.

His hand was shaking along with his voice as he spoke, “You are my world.”

Noelle’s eyes closed as the first tears fell.  However, these tears did not have the same emotion as the ones she shed over the last few months..

“You better pray you never allow that to happen again, Thomas William Hiddleston.”

His eyes and mouth dropped open, confusion reigning across his features.

“I promise this: if you allow me to fall to the wayside once more, I will kill you.” With a gasp, Tom jumped up and threw his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body.  He was laughing and choking back tears simultaneously.

“You are happy that I’m threatening you?” she laughed through her own sobs. He didn’t respond, not with words. Tom’s mouth crashed against Noelle’s, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. She dragged her fingers through his hair, eliciting a pleasurable moan from deep within his chest.

She squealed on his mouth, through the continual onslaught of his lips and tongue against hers. The air in her lungs were gone, but the heady lightness was not just from a lack of oxygen.

He pulled away, barely breathing, his lips dragging against her cheeks, neck and up to her ears.  With a sigh, he mumbled, “No, I’m ecstatic you’re threatening me. You’ll take the chance on something that I swear will never happen. I swear it, because, my God, I love you beyond measure.”

She had to admit, she felt her own sense of ecstasy, as well.  

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Tom's appearance and apology in Los Angeles, the couple have a heated reunion. Upon her return to London, Tom explains more of his behavior after all that happened from the past six months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this miniseries and I want to thank each and every one of you who sent Kudos and Comments my way for this part of Tom and Noelle's timeline. There will be more as I work to put together the next saga in their story, so subscribe to the Night series if you want to be updated! :) Thank you again!

Noelle felt her body relax into Tom’s; the sensation of euphoria mixed with relief at having his arms and hands against her back, her waist.  For so long, she’d been without any physical contact, nothing close to this nature, and she wanted it—needed it for as long as she could have it.  Which, Noelle realized, she had not a single clue as to what Tom’s schedule was in Los Angeles.

She pulled away from his mouth to catch her breath, “Wh—Where are you staying? In the hotel?” she gasped, watching as his long lashes opened to gaze at her.  She was not expecting the blush across his face as he placed her back onto the carpet.

“Well—“ he trailed off and Noelle’s eyes narrowed on his features. His chest rose and fell as he struggled for air, and the right words.

“What?”

With a grimace, he said, “Well, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me back…” He shifted in his stance as one hand ran across the back of his neck. His eyes refused to meet hers, and she knew the answer was on the tip of his delightful tongue.

With both hands jutting from her side, Noelle countered, “So?”

“I have a flight that leaves tonight from LAX to return to London.” Noelle’s head dipped onto her back as she groaned.  She snapped it back, however, as a thought popped in her mind.

“Can’t you change it? Stay with me here in the suite, and fly out on Monday with Ben and Charlotte?” Tom shook his head right away, resignation falling on his features.

“I have a reading for Night Manager first thing Monday morning.  It’s a ten and a half hour flight, so I’d need to fly out with enough time to make it back and not be a complete zombie when I head over to the BBC.” His sheepish smile and eyes melted her heart in an instant, as she wrapped her arms around his waist and linked them on his back.

“Well, then, I guess we need to use this time as effectively as possible,” she grinned up towards him, unable to keep herself from falling apart in his hands.   _Damnit, I hope he doesn’t realize how I’m right back in his grasp._

“Effectively, yes, Noelle,” he managed before his mouth found the corner of her neck and collarbone.  She groaned as she realized,  _he knows…of course he knows._

She held onto his shirt with fingers on the hem, dying to pull it up and over his head, but he grabbed her hands instead. With a playful glare, he brought them both up to his mouth while he kissed each of her knuckles, guiding her across the room.  His eyes twinkled a bit as he turned the lock on the door.  

Her barely guarded smile couldn’t belie the laughter that was held in her words, “Presumptuous, aren’t we, Hiddleston?”

His chuckle, the weighted one, resounded from his chest, “I know you, Noelle Marie Garguilo, and I’m going to make sure you realize how well I know you.  I’ll never let you forget that, never again.” Noelle feigned a look of shock but it was impossible to maintain as his frame enveloped hers, grabbing her by the waist and crashing their mouths together. This time she could begin to appreciate his body, the feel of muscle underneath her fingers, the strength that poured from his arms as he held her body in the air.  

 _God, how I missed him…_ She found herself losing place in the room, as if it all stood still. The scent of his cologne around her, the feel of his fingers in her back and side, the undeniable excitement at his tongue flicking against the bottom of her lip and hungrily meeting hers in between.  

He murmured, “As you said, effective, but in no way hurried,” into her ear before her legs hit into something.  Tom had moved them across the suite to the bed, causing Noelle to fly backwards.  Tom’s strong hands tightened on her back, keeping her upright.

“Gotcha,” he smirked, holding her against him.  His eyes glimmered as they raked over her body, down the dress she wore for the luncheon that became more disheveled as their reunion continued.  She knew her shoes were discarded somewhere in the room, along with his hat and with every halting breath, she wanted all their garments on the floor alongside them.

“Tom,” she gasped as she felt his hands roam up her back towards the zipper of her dress.  He pulled it down, with a patience as if he had nowhere else in the world to be at that moment. His eyes never left her face, although Noelle’s closed under the lightness of his touch, the force of his forearm across the small of her back.

His fingers ran up her skin, eliciting a shiver in time with them, “Let me make you feel like I did in the past? Please?” The heat of his breath prompted her to lose her own.

Done with pretenses, she sighed, “God, yes,” and he guided her down to the bed, his hands pulling the sheath dress from her shoulders and around her waist. The length of his arms gave the range of discarding her clothes from her body while still caressing her collarbone and shoulders with dashed kisses and flicks of his tongue.

Once all the items hit the floor, she felt completely exposed, conscious of her body. She had not been with him in months—did he care what she looked like? Was he disgusted at her body, which sagged in some places and caved in others? Noelle went to sit up, covering her breasts with her arms, when Tom’s hand brushed on her lips.

“Wait,” he murmured, and yanked his shirt over his head before reaching down to toss his jeans onto the floor. On one knee, he hovered over her, leaning her back to the mattress.

“That’s much better, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her eyes ran across his body, noting the differences in his frame and physique.  His arms still had some muscle, but a great deal vanished and he was thinner in his waist and thighs.  Noelle’s eyes trailed back to Tom’s and his face softened.

“We’re both a little different, I suppose. Doesn’t change one iota of how I feel for you. Noelle, I want to make you happy again, let me do that? Please?”

She knew the words flew from her mouth, “Of course, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  She gasped from him pressing his body onto hers, and her eyes closed to experience the high she knew was coming.

She moaned at the feel of his lips as they clasped around one of her breasts, the other hand still buried in her hair.  She felt her breathing, and her heart both quicken at the languid strokes of his fingers on her scalp, the other holding her hip as she raised it to his touch.

“Tom, please,” she gasped, already feeling her body dissolve from every sensation, remembering how he’d be able to do that—make her feel as if he was everywhere around her, heightening every sense until she succumbed to it all.  When his tongue dragged down the line of her hip to the inside of her thigh, she thought she’d come just from that alone.

She praised the heavens that she was wrong, as she felt Tom’s hair against her stomach while his hands ran down her legs.  It was if he was remembering every inch of her body, finding the bumps and curves all over again, like he’d never want to forget them.  She thought he stopped moving when his mouth ran across her slit causing a loud gasp and shriek escape from her throat.

The sensations only heightened when he moaned against her flesh, prompting her legs to curl over his shoulders into him, her heels digging into his back. One hand on her side, the other dragged two fingers against the wetness as he curled them inside.  

She had been without this intimacy for so long, it was if they were new lovers once again.  During their separation, touching herself was too much—almost a regret in it, knowing that she only wanted him by her, inside of her.  Having that wish brought to life made her want Tom even more, pressing her hips to feel his mouth, the graze of his tongue as he tasted and teased her, flicking the spots that made her want to scream throughout the suite.

He had a way with his mouth that she always craved and he knew exactly how to move in time with his fingers to make her feel as if she’d lift right off the bed. He caressed the spot that tightened the coil inside her just enough before his tongue pushed her to the brink. Pulling her body close, he let his fingers thrust once more before it burst and she fell along with it, moaning Tom’s name over and over without any inhibition or shame.

Noelle’s legs slid from his shoulders and onto the bed as his mouth moved back up her body, from her stomach to breasts, neck and ears. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her onto his lap, stroking her back in long circles  Her heart still felt as if it’d explode from her chest.  They held onto each other, without moving, keeping them in an intimate embrace. Noelle pulled away to look at his face, his eyes fixed on her lips, quietly watching her breathe.

“Tom,” she whispered, catching his attentions to her as she moved her fingers through the short hairs on his neck. His crystal blue eyes met hers and once again she was transported back to that field in England, up in North Hampshire with the two boys who were golden and tanned and ready for riding horses and leading a charge.  She pressed her lips on his, a chaste one to express some of the high that was pulsing just underneath her skin.

He allowed her to deepen the kiss when she was ready, their tongues moving together, hands roaming over the other’s body. She didn’t want to lose the contact with him, still holding onto the remnants of the pain of months without the other ones body in such close quarters.

“Lie down,” he commanded and she followed without question. He pulled her onto her side, his hardening member pressed against her.  She rolled her hips onto him, hearing his hiss in her ear before he joined them together.  

He moved at a methodical pace, at first, his fingers digging into her flesh as she held onto his side, to guide him faster. His mouth played against the back of her neck and shoulder, and when she rolled her hips again, he bit into the flesh, eliciting a loud moan from Noelle.

It prompted him to move faster, one hand massaging her breasts, the other dipping between her legs. She guided him, over that spot, allowing him to bring her back to that high that she desperately wanted to achieve again.  With a tilt of her head she leaned to kiss him, his moans now muffled by her lips.

He broke apart from her to gasp, “Noelle, come with me, darling,” and it pushed her over the edge, right along with him.  Tom pressed his lips into her neck, while Noelle’s gasps and moans echoed in the room around them. Even after they stopped moving, Tom remained inside of her, still pressing his lips to her neck, still stroking her skin while she caught her breath.

She wasn’t sure how long they lay beside each other before Tom mused, “If Lu’s back, she just got an earful,” and the two burst into laughter.  Noelle carefully extracted herself from his long limbs before turning around and curling into his chest.  She ran her fingers up and down his waist before she broke the silence this time.

“We still have to talk…about this, about what’s to happen now…” she started and with a long sigh, Tom nodded his head in agreement.

“You’ll be back in London, then? When?” he asked and Noelle remained quiet.  His fingers dragged under her chin to tilt her up to his eyes.  While they were glassy, and beginning to show the signs of his trip and their fervent union, concern still crossed his features.

Noelle’s voice dropped, “I wasn’t planning on returning until after the Oscars.  I was going to stay with Marcella for the next few weeks.” Tom nodded and sighed, still playing with a few locks of his hair in his fingers.

Noelle knew if she admitted what she wanted, that would be the last of her walls coming down.  It scared her, not just in making the jump, but letting Tom back into her heart again.  She feared if she lost him again, either intentionally or not, she’d never recover.

With a deep sigh and a silent prayer that she was doing was indeed the right thing, she said, “I could come back with Ben and Charlotte. They arrive Tuesday morning.” Almost instantly, his face lit up and he jumped in.

“We’ll meet up then?”

Noelle smiled and with a nod of her head, agreed with him, “That sounds good, I guess.” Without wanting to get into all this in a post-sex haze, and sleep already overcoming Tom, Noelle reached up and over to the nightstand where she tossed her phone.  Setting it for an hour later, she pulled the duvet up to their chins and watched as Tom’s eyes already were threatening to close.

“It’s set, come on, you need rest,” she chuckled into his arms.  

With a mumble he replied, “I guess…rather stay up…” as his eyes fluttered open and shut. She pulled her mobile with one hand to send a text to Lupita.

_Had to run, Tom’s here—ask Ben but I’ll fill you in later. :)_

* * *

Noelle held onto his UNICEF cap, and his trainers for a moment longer while he finished pulling a comb through his damp locks.  The nap, the shower—passed far too quick before he had to leave and catch the car to the airport. He grabbed the messenger bag he brought with him, holding his bare basics before he turned back to Noelle.

“I’ll see you Tuesday,” she said with a sad smile.

“I will, right, Noelle?” he responded, cautious and hesitant.   _He’s afraid I won’t come back._

She stood up and held his hand, “Listen, I’ll be there. You’ll be handling a cranky and tired traveller but I’ll come back.  I’ll stay with Ben and then meet you that night.”

“Carluccio’s?”

“I’ll see, I’m going to need to rest since we’re running like mad from tomorrow morning.” He nodded at her, dipping down to kiss her once more, and once more taking her breath away.  He waved with a twist of his hand, and left the suite, allowing the door to close on the way out.  With a sigh, Noelle turned, to find Lupita standing in the door of her room, with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

“That was Tom?” she said, practically giggling through each word. Noelle smiled and nodded.

“And you two…” Lupita trailed off, keeping a bit of decorum to their conversation.  Noelle nodded, this time unable to hide the blush that crept on her face.  When she looked up to Lupita again, her friend exploded into high pitched shrieking, bouncing up and down.  Noelle screamed just the same and ran to Lu’s open arms for a massive hug.

* * *

_What are you doing? —Tom_

_Attempting to sleep. Unsuccessfully now. —Noelle_

_Do you want company? ;) —Tom_

_That company would not be conducive to sleep. —Noelle_

_Come on….Ben’s at Charlotte’s isn’t he? I could stop by to make sure you’re okay? I could whip you up some tea and toast, massage your neck? You must be tense after Sunday and traveling all day yesterday? —Tom_

With a groan Noelle stuffed the pillow onto her face, still unsure as to the time and where she was at present.  They had stumbled off the plane after midnight and Noelle managed to plug Ben’s security code into his flat before she collapsed into his guest room.

Tom was persistent when he wanted something, and Noelle could already hazard a guess.  While normally she knew it a front for them to end up in bed (or on some kind of surface), this time, he was anxious to talk to her.  

_Fine, you know Ben’s code. I’m not getting out of bed, so come find me in his spare. —Noelle_

* * *

No more than half an hour later, not only did Tom walk through the door with an all-too-large grin on his face, he sported coffee and rolls in a large white paper bag.  He was lying on the bed for half a second before he pulled Noelle into his arms for a long and languid kiss.

Before she could question him, knowing instinctually what the necessity of this visit was, he handed her a cup, “You drink, I’ll talk for a moment?” Noelle nodded while he sighed, his long limbs askew on the tiny bed.

“I fucked up, let’s be honest.  I let a movie overtake me with all these dreams and thoughts running through my head.  It’s part of the job, it’s part of who I am as an actor to become these people.  However, I can’t let it overtake  _me_ , and who I am in reality.

“I’ve promised you in the past that you were my world, and that never changed. I love you madly and I always will.  You and I will forever be that couple standing in the dirt and mud, watching a line of horses roll by us while you spread foundation on my cheeks.”

She smiled and gripped her cup a little tighter, her voice trembling, “I understand how hard it was, being on that set, having to physically transform yourself…”

“—But I shouldn’t have cut you out of it.  I should have let you in, and that’s my promise today.  If you’re my world, you have to know what I’m dealing with and how I feel.  Just as I’d expect it from you.” With a hard swallow, he held her hand, fingers grazing back and forth over her knuckles.

“This is what a relationship, a healthy one is all about.  You said that back in Shreveport and I was too stupid, too far into myself to realize it. I don’t expect us to magically return back to the way it was before, but…” he hesitated before finishing the thought.

“Will you be open to at least moving back to the flat?”Her eyes rested on the top of her coffee, fixed upon the plastic marks and indentations.  She knew she held the silence a bit longer than necessary before she found her words.

“Yes, I’ll move back.  As much as I want to hold onto my anger at you, I can’t.  I love you too much, Tom.  I always believed we could make it through anything. We’ve been through so much already in three years.  Separations, press intrusions, fan encounters—they’ve all been par for the course.  I guess this was one more we had to face.”

“We’ll face more, I’m sure,” he said, fixed on her eyes, “That never will change. However, from today onward, I promise we’ll face them together. Together, because I love you, Noelle.”

“Together,” she repeated and placed her cup onto the nightstand before wrapping her arms around his neck.  Tom’s fingers grasped into her shirt holding for just a moment as one hand dragged down her left arm. The other hand twisted something Noelle could not see right away.

“Will you wear it again?” Tom asked and Noelle felt the tears flooding her eyes when she recognized her emerald ring.  Her gasp came with the nodding of her head.

“I will,” she whispered as he slowly slipped it onto her finger.

 


End file.
